


Luxury

by mikachan



Series: Sebastian x Ciel Drabbles & One-Shots [4]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, spillingashes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 08:14:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11077590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikachan/pseuds/mikachan
Summary: Sebastian finishes tying on his shoe, and turns to stand. Ciel catches the edge of his sleeve in small fingers; a venus flytrap.





	Luxury

“You are half of my soul, as the poets would say,” Ciel speaks out of nowhere, it seems… unprompted. Somehow, it is treated as if it were casual Sunday brunch discussion. Though as it is, nothing is normal, and nothing is right. “I am more than half,” Sebastian replies easily, slipping a hand up the smooth, pale skin of the child’s shin. He secures the black stocking in place with the garter, turns to fetch a small, heeled boot. “You shouldn’t be so prideful, Sebastian.”

“But, it is true, is it not?” The reply is coy, shimmering with indecency, and the earl sighs with torrential tiredness. “I suppose that it is more than true.” Sebastian finishes tying on his shoe, and turns to stand. Ciel catches the edge of his sleeve in small fingers; a venus flytrap. Sebastian’s eyes are full of fire when he turns back around, all of hell glittering within those crimson lakes.

Hands descend onto a small body, carnivorous and fierce, hungry for the sweet taste of childish ambrosia. The small thing yields beneath them… accepting and broken. The creature above him leans down to spread fire across his skin and into his hair. It burns over a gentle curve of hip, squeezes out between long, tired lashes. Ciel melts as slush in Winter’s river, fingers tensing into long, black hair, and pulling tightly. 

The beast above him heaves a long, weighted sigh into the air; smoothing down creases he makes in the young man’s suit as he goes. His breath wanders further down the boy until he is scraping nails across his thighs and feet, marring the leather gently. Ciel brings the hard edge of a heeled boot up to Sebastian’s forehead, and presses softly. The boy pushes, testing, until the butler leans up to worship his tongue over the toe of his shoe.

Ciel watches carefully, snow and fire glittering in his eyes, mixing as if it were just as much of a conundrum as he is. Sebastian grips his small ankle roughly, laving his tongue up and under the cotton shorts he is wearing. A gloved hand follows suit; hiking up the material with intransigence. The boy throws his head back, mouth agape, before taking his bottom lip between his teeth, and pushing the horrible pleasure away.


End file.
